


Summertime Intentions

by katherineerosee



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Sassy!Furihata
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 23:04:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5762356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katherineerosee/pseuds/katherineerosee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Furihata huffed out a large sigh as he started roughly chopping the carrots, “yeah, yeah, I know,” his voice dropped a few notes lower into an eerily accurate impression of the man sitting across the room from him, “I am absolute”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summertime Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> So this is based off of this [post](http://lupisashes.tumblr.com/post/121998612523/i-need-fics-and-art-where-furihata-mimics-akashi) by [lupisashes](http://lupisashes.tumblr.com/) on tumblr - I saw this and I couldn't resist. 
> 
> I honestly tried to make this like 100 - 200 words, and then things got out of hand. Well, at least it's still pretty short. 
> 
> Well, uh, enjoy.

“So you really can’t come over on Saturday, Sei?” Furihata felt a small pout pull at his thin lips and turn his eyebrows down. He’d been secretly planning to take Akashi – well more like pout and beg until Akashi gave in – to the summer festival, he’d even bought a new yukata for the occasion. And now, Akashi was saying that he couldn’t spend time with him on Saturday because _“this is the only time I can meet with grandfather for business”_ and _“I can’t afford to miss this opportunity; grandfather is rarely in Japan these days”_. What a load of _bullshit._

Akashi sighed from the table, the newspaper in his hands crinkling loudly in the relatively silent room, “I really can’t come over on Saturday, Kouki. I’m sorry, but I-”

“‘ _can’t miss this opportunity’_ Yes, yes, I know.” Furihata sulked, his grip on the knife tightening minutely. He’d been chopping the onions on the board for the past five minutes in his distraction, and by now they had become almost a paste. He hurriedly scraped the large knife under the onion puree and gently dropped it into the steaming skillet. He let out a huff of irritation as a steam exploded up and around his face, and swiftly adjusted the setting on the stove before turning to the carrots.

“I really am sorry, Kouki.” Akashi mumbled from his seat, ruby eyes fixated on the inky text of the paper. He absentmindedly turned the page without glancing up, “it can’t be avoided.”

Furihata paused in moving the carrots across the board to be cut and looked up through his lashes at the red-head, “but didn’t you organise this meeting?” He gently settled the knife on the coffee coloured counter and wiped his hands on the fraying tea-towel on his shoulder. “I thought I heard you call your grandfather and ask if he could meet.”

Akashi looked up again, eyes warily flickering from Furihata’s confused face to the pillar of steam rising from the stove behind the brunet. “Is the pan supposed to be doing that?”

“What?” Furihata turned toward the steaming fry-pan, and muttered a quiet _shit_ as he was practically engulfed in sweat-inducing steam. He was so distracted by Akashi and his _unavoidable_ plans that he’d almost forgotten that he was cooking dinner. “Don’t avoid the topic.” He muttered as he pushed the browning onions around the pan and stubbornly attempted to scrap off the burnt onion clinging to the Teflon surface.

Akashi released another sigh and finally closed his newspaper, hands folding over the bold headline in an aristocratic twist of slender fingers. Furihata _knew_ what this posture meant – the intertwined fingers, the crossed legs underneath the polished mahogany of the dining table, the raised eyebrows – they all screamed one thing; a lecture. In all honesty, Akashi really hadn’t changed much since high school. Sure his borderline psychotic personality – and the eerie amber eye that came with it – had simmered down to a gentler, calmer side, and he had eased up on the whole superiority complex that came with being a rich, talented genius, but he was still the same old Akashi. He still strived for perfection – to a lesser degree, but perfection none-the-less – he still couldn’t handle failure too well and he still used that catchphrase-

“I’m not avoiding the topic, Kouki,” the red-head’s eyebrows pulled down and narrowed his stunning ruby eyes into near slits, “I am-”

Furihata huffed out a large sigh as he started roughly chopping the carrots, “yeah, yeah, I know,” his voice dropped a few notes lower into an eerily accurate impression of the man sitting across the room from him, “ _I am absolute_ ”.

He felt more than saw Akashi’s eyes on him, and when he looked back up after glaring down at the carrots – which may have caused them to be a _bit_ more roughly chopped than intended – he saw the other man staring at him incredulously, eyebrows raised past his growing fringe and eyes wide in shock.

“K-Kouki?” Akashi blinked in delayed shock before a small frown curled at his lips. “Did you just…mimic me?”

He scraped the carrots into the sizzling pan alongside the onions and barely concealed a snort, “Yeah, I suppose so.” He turned back and gave Akashi a challenging look, fists propped on his hips and head tilted back slightly.

Akashi stared at him for a moment longer before releasing a snort of his own, palms flat against the table as he pushed himself up and out of his chair. He circled the deep russet brown corners of the table and slowly walked forward until he stood just before the brunet in the kitchen. “You know,” he muttered quietly, the words almost lost under the searing noise of the pan – which threw fresh and spiced perfumes into the warm air – “Tetsuya once told me that you could be quite, ah, _brazen_ , at times.” Furihata felt warmth bloom across his nose and cheekbones, as his hands slid down from his hips to his sides. “And to think I didn’t believe him.” Akashi finished with an amused chuckle, his cool hands snatching Furihata’s own from his sides to cradle them to the red-head’s chestnut sweater.

“Well, I-”

“Why do you want me to come over on Saturday so much, Kouki?” If he thought Akashi had been speaking softly before, he was positively soundless now. Furihata felt something like resignation squirm in his stomach in defeat. _I guess those plans won’t be secret anymore._

He tipped his head forward until his forehead bumped gently against the other’s collarbone that peeked up temptingly from the collar of his sweater, and puffed out a breath on Akashi’s chest. “I wanted to surprise you,” he murmured into the soft carmine cashmere, “I even bought a new yukata.” He nestled his head into Akashi’s neck until his caramel hair tickled the red-head’s chin, “I wanted us to go to the summer festival while it’s still reasonably cool.”

He felt long fingers stroke along his ribcage as arms curled around his torso, “the summer festival, hm?” He pressed a light kiss against the shorter man’s hair then rested his nose on the strands. “I suppose I can make some time in the evening.”

Furihata grinned against Akashi’s chest, “you are absolute after all.”

* * *

( _In the end they did go to the summer festival, after Akashi “made time” – he essentially just rushed through the meeting with his grandfather until the older man realised the red-head was anxious to leave, and gracefully running a hand through his grey hair and hiding an amused smile behind his arm, dismissed the younger – and thoroughly enjoyed the balmy, lively evening filled with exquisite street food, games and fireworks. And that new yukata looked stunning on Furihata, which according to Akashi –_

 _– looked even better on the floor._ )

**Author's Note:**

> A few things to note: 
> 
> 1\. This is set in an unspecified timeline in which Furi and Sei have finished high school, but aren't living together - I imagined like final years of college timeline, so they're like a good few years into their relationship, but still discovering things about each other (aka, the reason why Sei only just discovered the wonder that is Sassy!Furi) 
> 
> 2\. Furi doesn't show his sassy side that often (again, the reason why Sei only just saw it) but when he does he's the full package - hands on hips, shaking head, clicking fingers, r&b plays in the background sass. 
> 
> 3\. I wrote this in literally one day - which is a really really short amount of time for me; just look at my other stories - so if there's mistakes - grammatical, plot holes etc. - I apologise. 
> 
> Ah, yeah.


End file.
